


Elvar'nas Erelan

by ShannaraIsles



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Some people will hate this, What-If, tagging this is hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 02:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShannaraIsles/pseuds/ShannaraIsles
Summary: On a cold night, he came, bearing with him a small child. Yet when he left, it was alone, the child given to their care. She does not belong to them. Should they forget, the Dread Wolf will come for Clan Lavellan.A What-If AU origin story for a female Lavellan, heavily featuring Solas. No Solavellan-mance, sorry!





	Elvar'nas Erelan

**Author's Note:**

> You might hate it, you might love it - the product of a late-night what-if conversation that began with, "What if Solas was the Inquisitor's father", and degenerated from there. Not sure if it's going anywhere just yet - I don't want to incur the wrath of the fandom for this! ~laughs~
> 
> Bioware owns it all, I'm just playing. Also ... I have no beta, and I _always_ miss something in my read-through. You have been warned.

* * *

 

 

Snow fell in drifting flakes, gathering on cold ground to still the aravels in their endless journeying. Even if the snow had been light, they would have stopped, for the halla refused to go further. As one, the white creatures came to a halt, raising their heads in expectation of ... what? Not even Marin, the halla's friend, could say why they had stilled in their task, only that they seemed to be waiting for something, and would not move on until their wait was over. With no choice but to wait with their horned companions, the clan settled in, making camp in the forgotten forests of the Free Marches in hope that no _shemlen_ would seek to move them on before it was possible for them to do so.

Three days and nights they waited. By day, the hunting was good; fresh meat for meal, and more preserved against leaner times. The canopy protected the ground from the falling snow, revealing herbs and roots they gathered gratefully, glad to be able to bolster their stocks against a winter that promised to be harsh. Yet by night the wolves howled, dark forms encircled the camp, and they drew the aravels closer in fear of becoming prey. On nights like that, no one needed Hahren Tamarlas to tell his tales of the dark times; they felt the presence of the lost gods, praying to the Creators that the halla's friendship had not been stolen from them entirely.

On the fourth day, _he_ came to them. An elf, he seemed - not Dalish, and not city-born, an elven mage of no little power and presence. And with him, he bore a small child; an elven girl, not more than two years in the world, crowned with a crop of dark auburn hair that fell into her smiling face. Long hours he sat with the Keeper, and what passed between them no one could say. Yet when he left them, it was alone, the child given into their care. Within a day, the halla rose from their self-imposed stillness, the wolves that circled moved on, and the clan's never-ending journey could begin once more.

The Keeper took the child for her own, and if she sometimes looked on the little one with troubled eyes, it was not so very strange. An orphan, it seemed, saved from death by a stranger and given to those who would raise her well; not so very different from the city elves who sometimes sought refuge with their Dalish kin. Only Hahren Tamarlas ever learned what had passed between Keeper and stranger, and not even he would tell that tale. The Keeper was not even sure of the truth she had learned that night, but she could not forget the parting words.

"Her name is Inabelas, for she is my sorrow, and she is given to you for safe-keeping, nothing more. When the time comes, _I_ will teach her the gifts in her blood, though I will not return to these lands. You will teach her what lore you know; teach her this world she must live in. She will not wear your blood writing, your display of ignorance for a misremembered past. Always remember, she does not belong to you. Should you forget, the Dread Wolf _will_ take you."

A more chilling threat could not have been made. Yet as years passed, and the little one grew, it became tempting to forget what had brought her to them, and the promises made in exchange for her presence there. But when wolves howled, and the child laughed to hear them, the Keeper remembered. Inabelas might bear their name, but she was not theirs to keep. One day, he would come for her.

So the Keeper watched and waited, taught and loved, always aware that this child of her heart was not hers, not even truly one of her clan. She would never wear the _vallaslin_ , never wholly believe the lore they cherished so deeply. This one child would be lost to them, and yet they could not grieve. For in her loss, a greater grief would be averted. The Dread Wolf could not be permitted to find fault with them. Fen'harel would not find a reason to take Clan Lavellan. If the price of their safety was the life of this child ... then so be it.


End file.
